


Saudade

by Chaos_Squirrel



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Squirrel/pseuds/Chaos_Squirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saudade (Portuguese origin, noun): A strong feeling of missing someone you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chiaroscuro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiaroscuro/gifts).



> This was written for several reasons: 1. My dear beta, Chiaroscuro, has got some sort of sinus-based illness and wishes for fic. 2. Agents of SHIELD is an angst-fest and Age of Ultron is going to be a angst-fest and my response to all of the angst is fluff. 3. I have a sick!Clint plot bunny and if I’m going to make one of them ill, I might as well have a corresponding fic where the other gets ill. 
> 
> The timeline on this one is hazy and probably somewhat AU. Coulson is Director and SHIELD has gone to ground, but that’s about all I have. If you don’t like vague timelines, this may not be the fic for you. I can respect that. Everyone else, welcome aboard. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Alas, they are not mine. I do have a good portion of Renner’s filmography on DVD. But I don’t think that counts. 
> 
> Happy reading!

“Required reading. Really?” Skye asked as her new Supervising Officer set a stack of books in front of her.

May raised an eyebrow. Other than that her face was impassive as ever. “There’s more to being a SHIELD agent then knowing how to fire a gun and kick people in the face. Our minds distinguish us from our enemies.”

“ _The Hobbit_ is going to help me be a SHIELD agent?” Skye asked, holding up the book.

The corner of May’s mouth twitched. “Insight can come from unlikely sources.”

A loud sneeze interrupted Skye’s response. Both women turned to see SHIELD’s new director standing in the doorway of the break room.

Phil Coulson looked like he’d been hit by the Bus. His normally impeccable suit was slightly rumpled and his tie was askew. He was also pale, which highlighted the dark circles under his eyes and bright red nose.

“May. Skye,” Coulson said, managing to simultaneously sound congested and like someone had taken a cheese grater to his vocal cords.

May’s eyes narrowed “I thought Simmons told you to stay in bed.”

“She did,” Phil replied as he stumbled toward the coffee pot, getting jumbled in a chair in the process. May was at his side in an instant, helping him get untangled and then seated. Skye walked over and poured hot water into a mug, then reached for the tea FitzSimmons kept on hand.

“You aren’t doing anyone any good like this. You have to rest,” May said.

“It’s a sinus infection, not the plague,” Phil replied. “And there’s too much that needs to be done for me to spend all day in bed.” Phil’s statement was undermined by a sudden coughing fit.

Skye sat the mug down in front of her boss. “That logic didn’t work on you when Fitz got the flu last year. Do you really expect it to work on us?”

Phil wrapped both hands around the mug. “I appreciate your concern. But I’ll be fine.”

Skye caught May’s eye and gestured her over to the coffee station. “He’s not fine,” she said once the older agent had joined her. “And at this rate he’s not going to be fine.”

“I know. That’s why I called in back-up,” May replied.

“Back-up. Who?” Skye asked.

“The only person who has ever been able to get Coulson to slow down when he’s sick,” May replied. “Clint Barton.”

“Who’s Clint Barton?” Sky asked.

“The Avengers’ archer,” May replied.

Skye’s jaw dropped. “Hawkeye?!?”

“Shhhh,” May said, glancing over at their boss. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it, Phil appeared to have passed out. “Coulson doesn’t know he’s coming. And we need to keep it that way,” May replied.

“Why?” Skye asked.

“Because Coulson has gotten it into his head that SHIELD needs to keep its distance from the Avengers. Officially they don’t even know he’s alive,” May replied.

“And unofficially?” Skye asked.

“Unofficially Barton contacted me a few weeks ago and said that if anything happened to Coulson he wanted to know about it,” May replied. “And I think Stark is keeping tabs on us.”

“Seriously? That is so cool!” Skye said.

May looked at her.

“I mean, that is a clear violation of SHIELD protocol and may open us up to all kinds of outside threats?” Skye backtracked.

“Don’t worry, Stark’s got it covered,” a new, male voice said.

Skye managed to muffle a shriek as a good looking man dropped down from the ceiling (how long had he been lurking there?) and landed in front of her and May. He was dressed in dark jeans and a purple t-shirt that accented his insanely muscled arms. The rest of him was pretty well-muscled too and his eyes were a kaleidoscope of blue and green.

Skye might have been staring.

“Barton,” May greeted.

“May,” Barton replied. “How is he?”

May gestured over to where Coulson was still drooling on the table. “See for yourself.”

“Aww Phil,” Barton muttered, striding over to the table.

“Phil?” Skye asked.

“Coulson and Barton have been together for nine years,” May replied.

“Together? As in, in a relationship?” Skye asked.

“That’s typically the definition of together,” May said.

“Wow. That’s….really hot,” Skye said.

Meanwhile Clint was taking in the sight of his partner, in the flesh, for the first time in more than two years. Part of him wanted to shake Phil awake and yell at him for dying and then hiding after coming back to life. But a larger part of him wanted to latch onto him and never let go.

But at this point, neither was an option. So he settled for wrapping a hand around Phil’s wrist and squeezing it gently.

Phil startled awake, looking around frantically.

“Easy, Phil,” Clint said.

Phil nearly gave himself whiplash he turned his head so quickly. “Clint,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you were being your usual stubborn self,” Clint replied. “Come on. Let’s get you back in bed.”

“But there are reports, and conference calls, and an undercover op,” Phil protested as Clint helped him to his feet.

“I’m sure your team can take care of it while you’re recovering,” Clint said. “Right, May?”

“We’ve got it covered. Things are relatively quiet right now and we can handle it if something comes up,” May said.

“See? Problem solved,” Clint said as he wrapped an arm around his partner’s shoulders. Phil let himself lean against Clint’s solid bulk. “Now, where are you bunked?”

It was a slow, shuffling walk to Coulson’s room and the further they got, the more Phil leaned against him. It got to the point that was practically carrying him by the time they got there.

“You know, this is not how I planned our reunion to go. This wasn’t how I wanted to carry you across the threshold either,” Clint said as he guided Phil over to the bed.

“Who said you would be the one doing the carrying?” Phil asked.

Clint chuckled and framed Phil’s face with his hands. “You look like shit, Phil. But damn it’s good to see you.”

“How are you here?” Phil asked.

“May called. She’d been keeping this place under wraps, but decided to make an exception when it became clear that you’re still shit at taking care of yourself,” Clint replied. “And Koenig let me in.”

“You know Koenig?” Phil asked.

“Yep. He was management at a smaller base in Mongolia before the whole thing with the Tesseract. Or was that his brother? Anyway, it took me longer than I would have liked to get through the security protocols, but here I am.”

As he spoke, Clint deftly removed Phil’s tie and suit jacket before starting on the buttons of his shirt.

“How long have you known?” Phil asked.

“Known what? That you were alive?” Clint asked.

Phil nodded.

“Just about a year,” Clint replied. “Lucky for you, I’ve had a lot of time to get over the fact that you seemed pretty content to let me think you were dead. I’m still a little angry with you about that, by the way.”

“It seemed like the best course of action at the time. I can’t remember why, though,” Phil said. “I’m sorry.”

Clint leaned up to press a kiss to Phil’s forehead, then one briefly against his lips. “I reserve the right to yell at you later. And Nat’s not exactly happy with the current arrangement. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from her sooner or later.”

Phil winced. An angry Natasha was far more terrifying than an angry Black Widow. An angry Black Widow he could handle.

“Don’t worry about it now,” Clint said as he finished stripping Phil down to his undershirt and boxers. “Right now you are going to sleep. Then we’ll talk, which will probably include yelling, and when you’re feeling better we’ll have hot reunion sex.”

“Will you stay?” Phil asked his partner as Clint helped him into bed.

“Are you kidding? Ever since the battle of New York all I’ve wanted to do is wake up with you in my arms,” Clint said. He kicked off his boots and slid onto the narrow bed behind Phil and pulled the other man into his arms. “I’m not letting you go now.”

“I missed you,” Phil said as he pressed back against the archer. He tangled his fingers with those that were wrapped around his middle before twisting to kiss whatever part of Clint he could reach.

“I missed you too. Now go to sleep. We’ll talk more later,” Clint said.

“Okay. Love you,” Phil said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Clint rested his forehead against the back of Phil’s neck and closed his eyes against the sudden wave of emotion that swooped in.

“I love you too,” he said, throat tight. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

For the first time since he’d woken up in a SHIELD medical facility, Phil fell asleep with a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in about three hours. Please forgive any plot holes or OOC-ness or if the pacing is bad. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
